Dear Sheila,
A wonderful post. I wonder if you have read Byron and Shelley: the Making of the Poets by Ian Gilmour–a fascinating book. Here is a selection about Shelley and madness:
“Shelley had far less mental instability in his forebears than Bryon. Against the sheaf of suicides and other abnormalities in earlier Byrons and Gordons, the Shelley family could field only a lunatic great-uncle with a grandfather who had a dash of insanity. And Shelley never ascribed his melancholy to his ancestry. Although the tragedies of his life occurred in his later years, even in 1811 he had, like Bryon, good reason for depression. He had been persecuted at both his schools. Syon House had been so awful for him that he never again talked about it to Medwin and mentioned it to Hogg only when they passed its gates. At Eton he had had the prolonged and terrifying experience of being hunted by a mob in full cry. And he neither liked nor respected his father. “A Cat in Distress,” a poem which is often thought to date from 1804 or earlier but was probably written between late 1809 and early 1811, contains the lines:
Some a living require,
And others desire
An old fellow out of the way,
And which is the best
I leave to be guessed
For I cannot pretend to say.
The ‘old fellow’ evidently refers to Timothy Shelley wanting Sir Bysshe out of the way, but it probably also reflects Shelley’s own exasperation with his father.
He certainly did not want his ineffectual mother out of the way, though he had no great love for her. But he loved Field Place and his sisters, and was now cut off from both his home and his family. He had been rejected by Harriet Grove because of his rejection of Christianity. Obviously he could gain no consolation from religion, though he could gain some from his anti-Christian missionary activities. He had been expelled from Oxford and having spurned Norfolk’s offer now had no chance of pursuing a political career as a Member of Parliament. He had abandoned his second-choice career: medicine. His financial position was precarious, and so was his health. Almost certainly he had worries, justified or not, about being infected with a venereal disease. He may also have been worried or confused by some of his sexual feelings. But it was not just his personal troubles that affected his health. Shelley was a refutation of Dr. Johnson’s flawed dictum that ‘public affairs vex no man.”: and the England of 1809-11 contained much to vex him. Old Corruption was rampant. The Duke of York’s mistress had been bribed by those who wanted army commissions or favours. The press was subsided and prosecuted… The government was nondescript. Economic conditions were good for the rich and miserable for the poor. In Italy in 1819, a friend of the Shelleys feared that the political state of England was ‘very injurious to his health. that was also true of his earlier years. As an article on the penal reformer, Sir Samuel Romilly, in Leigh Hunt’s Examiner pointed out in 1813, many things will disturb and agonize the feelings of a benevolent man. Shelley was unquestionably benevolent, and his dislike or hatred of almost every feature of public life in church and state irritated and depressed him. No wonder he was often what his father called woefully melancholy.
Dear Sheila,
A wonderful post. I wonder if you have read Byron and Shelley: the Making of the Poets by Ian Gilmour–a fascinating book. Here is a selection about Shelley and madness:
“Shelley had far less mental instability in his forebears than Bryon. Against the sheaf of suicides and other abnormalities in earlier Byrons and Gordons, the Shelley family could field only a lunatic great-uncle with a grandfather who had a dash of insanity. And Shelley never ascribed his melancholy to his ancestry. Although the tragedies of his life occurred in his later years, even in 1811 he had, like Bryon, good reason for depression. He had been persecuted at both his schools. Syon House had been so awful for him that he never again talked about it to Medwin and mentioned it to Hogg only when they passed its gates. At Eton he had had the prolonged and terrifying experience of being hunted by a mob in full cry. And he neither liked nor respected his father. “A Cat in Distress,” a poem which is often thought to date from 1804 or earlier but was probably written between late 1809 and early 1811, contains the lines:
Some a living require,
And others desire
An old fellow out of the way,
And which is the best
I leave to be guessed
For I cannot pretend to say.
The ‘old fellow’ evidently refers to Timothy Shelley wanting Sir Bysshe out of the way, but it probably also reflects Shelley’s own exasperation with his father.
He certainly did not want his ineffectual mother out of the way, though he had no great love for her. But he loved Field Place and his sisters, and was now cut off from both his home and his family. He had been rejected by Harriet Grove because of his rejection of Christianity. Obviously he could gain no consolation from religion, though he could gain some from his anti-Christian missionary activities. He had been expelled from Oxford and having spurned Norfolk’s offer now had no chance of pursuing a political career as a Member of Parliament. He had abandoned his second-choice career: medicine. His financial position was precarious, and so was his health. Almost certainly he had worries, justified or not, about being infected with a venereal disease. He may also have been worried or confused by some of his sexual feelings. But it was not just his personal troubles that affected his health. Shelley was a refutation of Dr. Johnson’s flawed dictum that ‘public affairs vex no man.”: and the England of 1809-11 contained much to vex him. Old Corruption was rampant. The Duke of York’s mistress had been bribed by those who wanted army commissions or favours. The press was subsided and prosecuted… The government was nondescript. Economic conditions were good for the rich and miserable for the poor. In Italy in 1819, a friend of the Shelleys feared that the political state of England was ‘very injurious to his health. that was also true of his earlier years. As an article on the penal reformer, Sir Samuel Romilly, in Leigh Hunt’s Examiner pointed out in 1813, many things will disturb and agonize the feelings of a benevolent man. Shelley was unquestionably benevolent, and his dislike or hatred of almost every feature of public life in church and state irritated and depressed him. No wonder he was often what his father called woefully melancholy.